Creatures of the Sea
by Alone Dreaming
Summary: Rating for safety. Mr. Howard has shot an innocent person once and now, he's done it again. Stephen's POV. Two chapters. Chapter One: "The Consequences" -Complete
1. The Accident

_**Creatures of the Sea**_

**By Alone Dreaming**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World_. If I did, this would not be posted under fanfiction.**

**Author's Note: So, another plot bunny has been satisfied. Here is another story for those who enjoy reading. For once, I cannot rightfully say that it is a one-shot. It's actually broken down into two chapters due to its length. I find it easier to read a story when it isn't really long. So two chapters this time though it's not really meant to be a chapter story. **

**Onward- I am back in school and being bored to death by teachers. Though some of my classes, such as Chorus, are fun the rest are dull and seemingly pointless. I will have time to write during them as long as it appears that I am taking notes. Therefore, my next story may actually be done before the Second coming occurs. I can't make promises but I am working on it (I even have a folder for it) and have high hopes for it. **

**Thanks goes out to all of those who read and reviewed my last fic. More specifically: SilentTrainConductor, Boescribe, and Gaeriel Palpatine. I love seeing reviews. They make me happy. As always, a BIG hug and thank you goes to Kayla who advises me on canon, posting, titles and everything in between. **

**I don't think I've forgotten anything or anyone. Enjoy this story! Please review if you have a moment after reading the chapter. Reviews do mean a lot to me. I enjoy listening to readers opinions and, like anyone else, I like praise or advice. **

**o**

Over the long period of time I have known Mr. Howard, there has always been a strange dislike in me for him. It saddens me, really, for he seems a man of good character when everything is summed up. However, even with his good qualities, there is one trait about him which has always bothered me deeply and left me feeling very uneasy around him. This, of course, is his love of guns and shooting things. This sort of enjoyment is not rare among those of the navy but Mr. Howard seems to have an inordinate amount of love for putting bullets in things. It doesn't matter what it is, bird, fish or some other wild beast; anything can fall victim to his gun.

I discovered this myself when he misaimed and shot me. Not his fault, truly, but all the same, it made me twice as on edge and ten times as sharp with him. I didn't really blame him for it but every time he fired a gun after that I would jump, as though expecting him to shoot me. I know it upset him, and to this day still upsets him but I cannot help myself. There is some hidden fear in me that perhaps he will aim for a bird and he will accidentally hit me again. Being shot is an experience I would rather not go through once more.

After my own recovery, Mr. Howard did not touch his gun as much. In fact, he quite avoided touching it. If he did get compelled to shoot, he would aim the gun directly down at the water. Even then, he would only practice when there were very few people around. He had been taught a lesson; a lesson that would stick with him for a good amount of time, or so it appeared. Whenever I was on deck, reading, dissecting or simply roaming the ship in an attempt to get some fresh air, he would always put his gun down somewhere. He would never fire it with me around.

All good things come to an end though, and soon he was up with his gun once more. His tentativeness faded away, and he started pegging birds out of the sky and fish in out of the water. Not long after, it was as though nothing happened. He was jolly again, firing away at everything that moved. I, during this period, secluded myself below deck whenever he had a gun in his hand. Though I was glad he was happy, I was afraid I would speak words that would hurt him; or even worse, I would see the animal he was aiming at and be given another hole in my body.

It was a relief to me when we settled on the island for a chance to restock the ship. The island itself was scarcely populated and we camped several miles from the nearest town. Though the crew was noisy as always, I was able to escape to the peace and quiet of the beach. There was nothing terribly interesting for me to investigate there but it allowed me to get air while avoiding Howard. So, I would stroll, sometimes accompanied by Padeen, Jack or even Mr. Blakeney, and other times alone.

I was on one of these strolls when the inevitable happened. In fact, I was up to my knees in water, a sea star in my palm. The one thing the island seemed to have an abundance of was the many legged creatures and I was trying to find several good specimens to take with me aboard the ship when we left. The one I had in my hands was blue in color, with red lining around the edges of its legs. I studied it, trying to find anything wrong with it without cutting it open but found it good for my needs. Putting my hand down so the waves could lap at the creature, I took a box I had brought with me from my side and filled it with ocean water. I gently placed the sea star in and slid the lid shut on the box. Though the box was not good for a consistent home, it would keep the fish with legs wet and happy until I could transfer it to a larger tank I had.

I was bent over, attempting to scoop up another one, this one orange and gold when I heard my name called. I would have ignored it until I safely had put the creature into my collection box had the person's tone not been so desperate. I stood up and turned towards the beach to see Bonden running towards me, his face red. He clearly was running as fast as he could and was quite out of breath. When he finally slid to a halt on the beach in front of me, he had to heave in air for a few moments before he could speak. Meanwhile, I made my way back to the beach quickly and carefully so as not to step on anything. Things in the water could be harmed by my feet and I could be harmed by things that did not like to be stepped on.

"What is it?" I asked, trying not to show how worried I was. Whenever someone was sent running to get me, it usually meant another person was hurt. And as desperate as the coxswain sounded, the injury was probably bad.

"It's," he paused, gasping some more. I, at this point, was forcing him to sit. Camp was a good walk from where I was, and if he had run the entire way, especially hindered by the sand, he was lucky he had not collapsed.

"Is someone injured?" I questioned, keeping the questions to 'yes' and 'no' answers. That way he could simply nod or shake his head and continue his rest. A quick nod answered me and I continued, "Is it at the camp?" Another affirmative gesture, "Is it very bad?" When I got a 'yes' to this, I turned towards where our settlement was, prepared to run myself. "Stay here and catch your breath." And I was off.

It happened to be one of those times I truly wished I was in better shape. In but a minute I was wheezing and had to pause. Though not overweight, like Jack was bordering on, I had very little muscle mass for I rarely pressed my body to endure great physical exertion. A walk about the islands, yes; a swim with Jack, maybe; a short run on nice hard ground, unlikely but possible; but running on a beach was completely out of the question for me.

I did keep running though, to the camp. I had to make many stops in order to keep myself moving but in the end I reached the place, out of breath and coughing. After taking a very brief moment to catch my breath one last time, I headed towards my own tent, hoping that the injured person had brought there. Luckily, the person had been. I knew this even before I managed to get in, for nearly the entire crew was crowded around it, most of them looking very uneasy.

'God, let it not be someone well loved,' I thought, suddenly aware of how long it had taken me to get here. It could have been as long as a half-hour since the person was injured and if it was a bad injury then the person could already be dead. I could be no help in this situation. Pushing through the crowd, I stepped into the tent and found myself facing a very unhappy sight.

It was not someone the crew was fond of. In fact, the crew did not even know this person at all. This, in a sad sort of way, gave me a slight amount of relief. The sight before me made me wish it was someone the crew knew; at least one of our own men. It would have been easier for everyone to bear then, including myself.

As a doctor, I am used to losing people to death; both those I love dearly and those I barely know. It is part of my job, and a part of my life. Though every time I loose a patient it pains me, it is very rare that I ever mull over the death of one of them. Even when the person is close to me, I mourn their loss and soon I am over it. I do not dream of their faces looming over me or their hands reaching out to bring me down with them. If they are brought up, I readily remember them but do not find guilt in the mention of their name.

This situation was very different though. There are nights when I wake up, a cold sweat covering my face and my breath comes in and out in a sharp, labored fashion. I see what I saw that moment I ran in and everything seems so out of my control. The vision of it constantly haunts me, though it was no fault of mine what happened. The pain etched on the face of the person on the bed and the whimpering that escaped that human's mouth is enough to break my heart over and over again.

It was a little native girl on my cot; a beautiful, little girl. The natives of the island looked alike in many aspects. They all had deeply tanned skin and dark, nearly black, hair. Their eyes for the most part were brown. This girl followed the normal traits except for her eyes. They were blue, a sky colored blue. When I first those eyes, they were darkened by pain and fear. They were not focused on me as I ran over to her side, but on Padeen who was holding one of her hands.

Padeen, in all his gentle ways, is very good at comforting distressed people. Frankly, he was working miracles on this poor child, who was clearly terrified. He held her tiny little hand in his and whispered to her in his own tongue. Though she didn't understand a word, she clung to him with all her might and sobbed softly. If I was in her position, at her age, I would have been screaming. She was no more than four.

Jack was also in the tent, along with Mr. Higgins who was clearly doing his best to care for the child. Jack quickly caught me before I could fall into my physician mode, his eyes hard as stones. His mouth was set in a thin line and he was clearly very unhappy.

"Where's Bonden?" he questioned softly, in Latin.

"I left him to rest, he nearly killed himself running to fetch me," I replied in the same tongue, finding that someone had brought fresh water. I moved over quickly to wash my hands with it. "He'll be back as soon as he can be. What happened to her? There is not a settlement for miles."

Jack's look darkened all the more. "She was swimming off the coast a mile or so from here. Mr. Howard, thinking she was a siren, discharged his weapon and hit her."

I must have twitched visibly because Jack put a hand on my shoulder. I slowly took in a deep breath and let it out in an attempt to calm myself. Right now, my job was to help my patient. "Well, my dear, I am sad to say it doesn't surprise me in the least. Maybe this will teach him a proper lesson." Drying my hands, I lightly removed Jack's hand from my shoulder and made my way over to the bed.

Higgins quickly moved out of the way and allowed me to do my job. He seemed utterly relieved about not having to worry about the situation anymore. Though his ability to heal was becoming better as time passed, he was still terribly nervous about doing it. From what I could tell, in this situation, the man had done the right thing.

Several blood soaked towels were upon the child's chest, and before that it was clear Higgins had been using them to stop the flow. As carefully as I could, I slowly peeled them back in order to get a good look at the injury. A soft cry escaped her and her other hand flew up to bat me away. Gently, I caught it and rubbed it.

"Easy, young one," I murmured in Spanish. "Está bien, niña."

Hearing her own tongue, she relaxed a bit but still looked at me in fear. I placed her hand back down on the cot and pulled the towels all the way back. The bleeding had stopped mostly though a few trickles were still steadily drawing lines down her chest. The wound itself was gruesome too look upon on such a young child. The bullet had skimmed across her, cutting a jagged line across her chest. Though it was not terribly deep, it was clear that it had bled quite a bit. 'Too close to the heart not to,' I thought.

"Have you cleaned the injury yet, Mr. Higgins?" I asked, taking a clean bit of one of the towels and dabbing at the blood.

"No, sir," he replied softly. "I just tried to stop the bleeding. I'll fetch you some things to clean it." And he moved quickly to the other side of the room to get what I would need.

"While you are there, Mr. Higgins, fetch me a needle and thread," I called. "I am going to stitch this to prevent anymore bleeding."

I then focused my attention back on the little body in my care. Large, glazed eyes were staring at Padeen who was humming a soft Irish lullaby to her. Though I did not want to disturb this, I had to ask her some questions while she was still conscious. Picking up her tiny hand again, I pressed it between both of my own.

"Cuál es tu nombre, la pequeña?" I said softly, catching her attention.

Her answer did not come immediately. A sniffle and then a sob escaped her and for a little while I did not think she would answer. She was frightened of everyone except for Padeen but he only spoke his Gaelic and would not be able to get the answers I searched for. Finally, she opened her mouth and her voice came forth in a squeak. "Esperanza, Señor."

I nodded and let a smile cross my face. "Esperanza, un nombre hermoso. Me dice, niña, dónde están sus padres?"

The smile comforted her somewhat and hearing someone speak to her with words she could understand calmed her. Her hand grasped mine tightly and her lip stuck out. She looked so innocent and so afraid that I would have given the world to make her feel better.

"Mi Mama," she said with a sniffle, "y mi Papá han ido al hogar de Dios."

I sighed softly and squeezed her hand. "Entonces usted no necesita temer porque están mirando sobre usted."

Higgins, at this point, returned with the supplies I needed and looked at me in question. Putting the child's hand down once again, I turned to him.

"Her name is Hope, or Esperanza," I said to him, carefully taking the antiseptic from the items. Dabbing it onto a cloth, I prepared to clean the injury. "Her parents are dead from what I can tell. She is very scared right now. Did you bring some laudanum? I want to give her a bit so she does not feel as much pain when I sew the injury. I fear it may be too much for her."

"I did bring some, sir," Higgins replied, pointing to it among the items he had procured for me. "Do you want me to give her some?"

I shook my head. "No, Padeen will do it. She trusts him."

Padeen looked up when he heard his name and I quickly explained to him what to do. He understood and went about doing it, cooing at the child and soothing her until she would take it. Meanwhile, I finished preparing everything I would need to patch up the injury. I was fearful about helping someone so young, afraid that I would harm her more than help her. However, I knew that what would hurt her worst is not to have any help at all.

"Mr. Higgins, tell the Captain to send someone to the nearest village," I commanded, seeing that Jack had already excused himself. "Have someone with a knowledge of the Spanish language ask around to see if anyone is missing a little girl, dark hair and blue eyes. If she has someone to watch over her, I want that person here."

Higgins was gone in a second and Padeen and I were left to care for the ailing girl.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I see her lying there, pleading with me in Spanish to keep the pain away. Her face is very pale and her eyes glazed over. Everything I try does not help and she dies, clinging to my hand. Her little sobs and cries haunt my dreams and I sometimes wake up with a cry of my own. When people respond to my shouts, I tell them it is nothing. That nothing, however, sends me to tears when the person has left.

**o**

I found myself sitting next to my own cot, that night, reading a book. Padeen was hunched over the bed, sitting on a stool. He was still holding the little girl's hand and gently brushing her hair from her face. In but the few hours she had been here, he had taken it upon himself to be her guardian and to keep her calm and happy. She slept now but he did not wish to leave her alone in case she awoke. Internally, it made me smile but it also made me sad. I feared that soon Padeen would suffer a loss, for I did not expect the child to make it until morning.

As I stared at the book in my hands and my mind wandered through how people so young could die, I suddenly recalled my sea stars. When I had started cleaning and stitching the girl up, I had set the box down in a corner of the tent so it would not hamper my movements. Cringing, I quickly stood up and set my book on the ground. I could only imagine the state it was probably in, left in that little box for so long.

Padeen caught my movements and watched me carefully, "Are you alright, sir?"

I did not answer him, but instead, knelt down by the box and pulled back the lid. The lid was warm and I realized that the box had been sitting in the sun for the few hours before it set. I winced and looked down at the sea star in the water. A rank smell met my nose, and I placed the lid back down.

"No, Padeen, I fear I am not," I replied softly, standing up. I planned on going down to wash out the box and put the sea star at rest. Though I had wanted to dissect one earlier that day, my heart was no longer in it. The sight of the dead sea creature in the box seemed to be an ill omen to me. "I'll be right back."

To avoid any more questions, I slipped out of the tent and met the cool sea breeze with a soft sigh. This seemed so wrong. How could one man make the same mistake twice? How could he shoot a child so young, be the child a mermaid or a human? It just seemed so wrong to me. For a moment, my stomach churned and I thought I would be ill. However, it soon settled itself once more and I found myself standing outside, cold and empty.

The camp was quiet and though men were still loitering around the different fires set up, most of them had retired to their beds. I passed them as quietly as I could and padded slowly down towards the sea shore. The stars twinkled and the moon was bright and full. I could see quite well, right out over the ocean. The waves were gentle and smooth. Perfect for swimming; I prayed for whatever swimmer would take to the waters near here though. It was already clear that any unfortunate soul who did not look like a human would soon be pierced.

Opening my box, I knelt in the waves and allowed the sea star to drop out. It floated for a bear moment but soon was lost to the water, left to rot its mortal body away. 'Soon little Esperanza will be the same way,' the morbid part of my mind thought as I attempted to scrub the decaying stink from the box. 'Laid in the ground to rot away until God raises her body once again.' I shook my head in an effort to remove the thoughts but they would not fade away.

**o**

**TBC...**

**o**

**Translations:**

Está bien, niña- It is well, child (female)

Cuál es tu nombre, la pequeña?- What is your name, little one?

Esperanza, Señor.- Esperanza, sir.

Esperanza- Hope

Esperanza, un nombre hermoso. Me dice, niña, dónde están sus padres?- Esperanza, a beautiful name. Tell me, child, where are your parents?

Mi Mama y mi Papá han ido al hogar de Dios- My Mommy and my Daddy went to the house of God

Entonces usted no necesita temer porque están mirando sobre usted- Then you need not fear because they are watching over you. (Or something along those lines)

**o**

**I'll post the next chapter in a day or two! See you then.**


	2. The Consequences

_**Creatures of the Sea**_

**By Alone Dreaming**

**Author's Note: For all musings, notes, disclaimers and other such important things, see chapter one. **

**Responses to Reviews:**

**I actually do this when I have chaptered stories. When I write one-shots, I find that it is not a good thing to respond to reviews as such. People don't always read your next fic. Anyway- Here I get my chance.**

**SilentTrainConductor:** Yes, darn Mr. Howard. He doesn't seem to do much good for people, now does he? I have to admit, there are times that I pity him though. He must have nightmares about what he has done. Believe me, my Spanish is suspect at best. I have not taken Spanish for two years and I never use it, so it is more than rusty. When I actually wrote this, I was using my rudimentary knowledge, a friend who just barely passed her high school course, and an online translator. Since something that seemed like Spanish managed to turn up, I slightly sheepish grin most certainly did not question it. I must say I have insulted Stephen (because his other languages were flawless) but I suppose it could be worse. I could have him speaking Italian (the language I've been taking for the past few years) and say it is Spanish. The last Spanish phrase I have in here will probably kill you. It's completely from a translator. I'm very glad you enjoyed the story! :) Keep reading.

**TheMusingFit:** Thanks so much for reviewing! How is my style unusual? I'd like to know really. I don't read very much Master and Commander fanfiction and my knowledge is completely movie-based (with small snippets of strange book knowledge). I'm glad you like the portrayal of Padeen. I think he (next to Stephen) is my favorite character. I like his gentle personality and how he cares for Stephen. :) Thanks for the luck with school. It's a lot of work but I think I shall survive it.

**Arwen Rose:** smiles Howard isn't very likable is he? I must admit he rubs me the wrong way especially after I watched the deleted scenes in Master and Commander. I was ready to throttle him. I'm really glad you've enjoyed the story so far. I love Stephen and Padeen. Two of my favorite characters in the entire twenty books (which I haven't read ironically); and I rather like Jack but when I first saw the movie I hated him for being mean to Stephen. I hope you like this chapter just as much! Time for Howard's reaction!

**Here's the next chapter folks! Do enjoy it! **

**xXx**

And now, I must go back and view on Mr. Howard's reaction to the situation. Not once did I see him while tending to the child, nor was he one of the men who came in and inquired about her health. He was not among those who went to the village only to discover that she was considered a demon child. He never stopped by as Padeen, Mr. Higgins and I slaved to keep the little girl's breath within her. I did not even manage to get word of him from Jack. Jack stopped by several times and asked me about the child but every time he departed before I could ask about Mr. Howard.

The third night since the child's injury found me standing on the beach, picking up shells. I was commanded by a very irritable voice to search out pretty shells and stones. I had to do it; no one else was allowed to apparently. So, I walked along the beach, pausing now and again to pick up shells that were suitable. It went against my normal instinct to not pick up shells that were interesting in a scientific manner but I found that I could force myself to choose things for color. One by one, the shells were placed into the bag on my side, and I moved farther and farther from camp. The lantern I had brought with me lit the way and soon, I found the bag heavy. Hopefully, these would be enough and would suit the purpose of the person who needed them.

I was about to turn back, feeling I had found plenty of pretty shells for one night when I heard someone, or something moving nearby. It was strange for someone to be out at this time of night, especially since there was no town nearby and camp was a little less than a mile back. Holding up my lantern, I allowed its light to spread some in hopes that I would see what was out roaming the night. I expected an animal, perhaps one I had not seen before.

Well, I had seen this animal, if he is to be lowered to that, though not for the past few days. Mr. Howard was standing still at the top of the beach, staring out over the ocean. He was quite oblivious to my presence and I think I should have counted my blessings for it. Pursing my lips, I started forward, ready to confront him for not at least asking how the little girl was when I made another rather startling discovery.

The man had a gun on him. No, not just on his person but in his hand, ready to be fired. It was not one of his larger hunting rifles which he used to kill animals but a small pistol. This small pistol shone in my lantern light in a scarily beautiful way. This gun was also pressed under his chin as he focused on the barely visible rolling waves of the sea.

I, with all my dislikes of Mr. Howard, could not in my right mind, or my not so very right mind, allow him to kill himself. There were many reasons why ranging from that he needed to at least apologize to Esperanza to that it was a waste of a reasonably good life. Without another thought on the matter, I dropped my lantern and ran towards him. I wasn't exactly sure what I would do to stop him from bringing an end to himself but getting to him seemed to be the first step.

What happened next is slightly blurred in my mind do to the mass confusion of it all. I know that I did reach Mr. Howard before he pulled the trigger because he still dwells with us today, alive and physically well. Though his mental stability is slightly questionable now and again, he has not left us to dwell in heaven or hell. He still mulls over taking his life when left alone for too long, depressed by the things he's done but bit by bit he is reaching a point of healing emotionally.

That is not the point of this part though. I did stop him but I can't remember how. All I know is that I found myself on the ground, clutching my hand to my chest and Mr. Howard sitting in front of me, looking very startled. Neither of us spoke but we both did quite a bit of glaring at each other. Meanwhile, a curious burning feeling was emanating from my hand and I found that my leg was aching. Whenever I got around this man when he had a gun, I seemed to end up in pain.

"Doctor," he said finally, his voice tense. "I did not expect to see you out here."

I was not quite as cordial. "What in hell were you thinking?" I knew what he was thinking but I needed to hear it from his own lips. I could vaguely see his face from the very tiny amount of light coming from my dropped lantern and the moonlight; his face was very pale.

"I was," he stopped and looked away from me. "I was thinking of the little girl and how she's dying and how I've-"

I spoke again, my voice still harsher than I intended. "Who in hell's blazes told you she was dying?"

He was startled again as I'm sure he was when I first approached him. "N-no one, doctor, but I've heard her cries front the tent and whenever you come out you look so grim; she was just a child and the wound was bad. I simply assumed-"

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me," I replied sharply. "In other words, you should not have done it! My dear God, is that enough to send you, a man who has killed plenty of people, out here to blow your brains out?"

The gun was sitting in the sand now, still smoking slightly. He was staring down at it, his hand hovering just above it. "I...." He stopped and then turned his gaze to me. "I just couldn't bear to think that I was responsible for killing an innocent life like hers and nearly taking another innocent person's life before that. The more I thought about it, the worse it was in my mind. I felt as though I was one of the worst creatures ever to drag myself across the earth. I thought I didn't deserve to live anymore."

I wanted to interrupt him, to tell him I was sure that there were people out there who had done far worse things than he did. I held myself back though, knowing that he had to let this out.

"I know it sounds absurd and I know that I have been killing people for years now. Who knows how many of them were innocents? That was in battle and it always just seemed so different. Those men would have killed me if I did not kill them. I was simply defending myself, and my country. I never considered they were just defending their own lives and their own country. It never crossed my mind once. In fact, I probably would have never thought of it until I shot an innocent person.

"When," he stopped, and took a deep breath. "When I shot you, I felt this unbelievable guilt. It was almost as though all those deaths I had caused suddenly came down upon me. I realized what a murderer I was. I suddenly discovered how much I liked to kill. How every bullet that I shot at man or beast relieved something within me. When the bullet hit you though, it showed me I was a monster.

"You recovered but something within me started to fester. I covered it up, pretending as though it had gone away but every night it would haunt my dreams or keep me awake. I tried to push it down but every time it seemed to have been defeated it came back twice as strong. I didn't know what to do about it so I kept trying to ignore it or get rid of it. It never would go away though. It always lingered.

"I suppose, the little girl was the last straw. It suddenly overwhelmed me and I found myself here. I didn't think I deserved to be amongst the living anymore. It just didn't seem right."

I listened and understood vaguely, though not completely. "You are suffering from depression. It's not uncommon. The depression driven by self-blame, I think; however, I don't think that gives you a reason for suicide. I-" This would be hard to say. "I don't blame you, Mr. Howard. I never have though I do admit I've been fearful of you. I do not think Esperanza will be upset with you if you come and talk to her."

"She is not on her deathbed?" he asked, fear in his voice.

"No," I replied, a bit of a smile on my face. "Far from it; she's in quite a temper though because she wants to be outside. I won't allow her out because she is still far too weak and a bit feverish from her wound. So, in order to calm her a bit, a few of the crew promised to help her make bracelets out of shells and stones. I was ordered to come collect the shells for her so tomorrow. I must admit I am not used to being ordered around by a child and was in the mind not to listen to her, but she was threatening to sick Padeen on me."

Mr. Howard chuckled, but it was half-hearted and ended quickly. "I cannot face her."

"Of course you can," I said. "She is but a child, Mr. Howard. The young, I find with my very few dealings with them, forgive and forget quite fast and are very eager to love a person rather than hate them. This is what I think you should do.... Tomorrow, bring in some pretty shells and stones and join her in making bracelets. She'll be very pleased, I think, and hopefully not as petulant as she was today."

"It's not that simple," he replied softly, holding his head in his hands. "It's not that simple. You would understand if you had wounded someone like that. Maybe if you shot a child you would know why I cannot simply go up there and apologize. An apology is not enough."

"Feh," was all I could say and I turned my attention to my hand. I would let him be for a moment and then, if I had to, force him back to camp.

As I said before, how I stopped him from shooting himself is very faded in my mind. However, I do know I must have grabbed the barrel of the gun. In the faded light, I could see very little but it felt as though I had burned my hand. Being as careful as I could, I prodded it and found that not only did it hurt quite badly, but there were blisters forming. I hissed softly, and cradled it against me once more.

Mr. Howard, despite the fact that he was very against going anywhere, heard that particular expression of pain. He jerked his head up and stared. "Oh dear God, no..." With a look of pure terror, he began to back away from me. "I shot you, didn't I?"

It took me an age to calm him down to the point where he could think sanely. By that point, I had stored the gun away so he could not harm himself with it. He was distraught, mentally unwell and in need of help I simply was not able to provide. If I could have sat him down with anyone, I probably would have sat him down with Padeen. Padeen would have been able to set him straight or at least, make him feel a bit better. However, there was the problem of a language barrier there.

I convinced him, after a long time, that I most certainly had not been hit by the gun (though there was a curious pain down in my leg) but I feared I had twisted my ankle when falling and needed help getting back to camp. It was a horrid lie, and every now and again, I feel slightly guilty about it. It did keep him from staying out there and drowning himself though, so I suppose God will forgive me. Hopefully, he will see the lie was a necessity in order to save a man's life.

Between the two of us, we managed to hobble back to camp where I told him to go get his rest. We were not to my tent yet, but I insisted that I was fine and I could make it there myself. He clearly was uncertain but he soon left, his face very troubled. The fact was, I did not want him to see me in the light for I feared there was a cut on my leg. This cut, I knew, was from the bullet and I did not want to have him in an insanity again, especially not this close to camp.

Of course, another lie was spouted when I limped into the tent and was immediately accosted by Jack who had been waiting for me. At first, he fussed at me for being gone so long and worrying him. Then he noticed the blood on my leg and fussed even more. Over all, a great ado was made about my leg and my hand. When I was quite unresponsive about it, for my mind kept drifting back to poor Mr. Howard, Jack began to wonder if I had been attacked and was in shock. I allowed Higgins to try to assure him otherwise, though they both were quite uncertain about it. The two of them, and Padeen, fussed over me and cleaned up both the injuries.

I continued in a semi-dazed state while all of this occurred, my mind puzzling over Mr. Howard's mental situation. I was, and still am, a physician though of the body and not the mind. I did not know quite how to help him and still feared that he very well could run himself on his own bayonet if left for too long. I did not voice this to Jack or anyone in the tent though. I felt almost as though it would be a betrayal of trust. So, I stayed silent on what truly occurred and informed Jack that I had slipped, burnt my hand on my lantern and cut my leg on a shell.

I was forced into bed, even though I did want to check little Esperanza's bandages. The assurances that she would be well cared for in my absence did not calm me much but I did find that I was exceptionally tired all of the sudden. The past few days were finally catching up to me. So, before Jack could confirm for the tenth time that I really had only slipped and not been attacked, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

xXx

"No, no! El azul va allí, señor, no el verde!" a small, agitated voice cried. "Mire lo que hago! Sé que usted no entiende mis palabras, pero usted hace como hago!"

It is very rare that a high pitched voice shrieks in Spanish at someone in my presence. If one was to inquire why, the answer would be easy; first off, very few people have high pitched voices amongst the crew and second off, very few of them speak Spanish fluently. Even if one of the few people on the ship who happened to have a higher voice just happened to speak Spanish, the words themselves did not seem related to nautical comings and goings.

Cracking my eyes slightly, I looked around my tent. I was positioned on a cot that had been dragged in hours before when Esperanza had taken over the other. Several blankets were draped over me, keeping me warm and content. The sun was shining through the tent flap, and I noted that Esperanza's bed was closer to the light today. Focusing on her, I saw that she was propped up, Padeen on her one side and a second person sitting on the other.

She was swinging a cord with several shells on it in the second person's face, ranting at him in a language which he clearly didn't understand. He looked at his own cord which had some shells on it, and then back at her, trying to discern why she was in such a rage. The funny thing is that I have only just noted his expression. I was more entranced by exactly who he was.

Mr. Howard clearly had dealt very rarely with children, for his own necklace was messy, and lacked the pattern Esperanza was searching for. He was quite shocked about the way she was howling at him, and was quite nervous because he didn't know how to make her stop. He kept looking at Padeen for help but Padeen only shrugged in a good natured fashion. He was busy on some other project, and seemed to be enjoying watching Howard struggle.

I, on my own part, could have helped but I ultimately decided there was little I could do. True, I could have pointed out to him that he simply had to change two of the shells and Esperanza would be happy. A slightly sadistic part of me enjoyed watching this; so I viewed it for a few more seconds until Padeen looked over me. I then rolled over and pretended to go back to sleep.

That is all there is to this particular tale. I am writing it because no one else dares to, it seems. It may be logged into the ship's book that there was an accident but it does not go into detail. There is no record of how we nearly lost a member of a crew. There isn't anything written about us finding a home for little Esperanza or how she writes sometimes to us. There is not tale of how Mr. Howard finally found forgiveness.

And for the captains own protection, no one recorded Esperanza's nickname for him either. Apparently 'Jackie' isn't a very manly name.

xXx

**The End**

**xXx**

**Well, so ends another tale. I hope the spelling, grammar, and Spanish were not awful. See you all next time!**


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